Tonight You're Mine
by infinitely fine
Summary: Set over the course of the "2012 Belldale Music and Arts Festival", the New Directions plan on ending their senior year with a bang, but when Quinn and Rachel ruin all the fun with their constant bickering, Santana gets a brilliant idea which involves the two girls and a pair of handcuffs. Faberry
1. Shake It Out

**a/n:** based off of the "tonight you're mine" movie trailer i saw a few days ago. each chapter will be named after a song mentioned in the chapter. the first one is "shake it out" by manchester orchestra, if you'd like to listen along to the flashback. hope you all enjoy!

**Title:** "**Tonight You're Mine"**

**Rated:** "T" for strong language, alcohol, and general teenage shenanigans. (possibly 'M' later on. i mean, you never know with music festivals. crazy stuff goes down at music festivals.)

**Full Summary:** Set over the course of the "2012 Belldale Music and Arts Festival", the New Directions plan on ending their senior year with a bang, but when Quinn and Rachel ruin all the fun with their constant bickering, Santana gets a brilliant idea which involves the two girls and a pair of handcuffs.

If you spend enough time with a person, it's impossible not to fall in love with them… or, at least, that's what they keep telling themselves.

* * *

**Chapter 1: "Shake it Out"**

**Day 02. 8:36 AM.**

Rachel blinked her eyes, slowly, until she was fully awake. Her head pounded, as steadily as her heart, and she was laying so still that she could feel both. She used her free hand to sit herself up, hissing slightly in the process. She felt a cramp in her neck as she tilted her head back.

She guessed she had slept wrong.

It was dark, or maybe it wasn't and her eyes hadn't fully adjusted yet. Waking up was always such a disorienting process; separating dreams and reality, even when, in about five minutes she would forget what she had dreamt about at all.

Still, she surveyed her surroundings. Grass stained blankets were strewn about the floor, a few feet away from her. She could have sworn she had fallen asleep _with_ the blanket covering her. It had gotten chilly last night.

She could see bright light seeping through the opening of the tent.

It was morning. Thank God.

She looked down to realize she had used Quinn's arm as a pillow. She rubbed the back of her neck, and concluded that must have been where the cramp came from.

It was a good thing she woke up first, or else she was sure Quinn would yell at her for it. It had never been this bad before; their arguing. The first year Quinn would call her names, or make snide comments about her. For the majority of the second and third year Quinn ignored her, save the few moments they had interacted.

Rachel cherished those moments more than anything.

And right when they seemed to have finally become friends, or at least, good acquaintances, _this_ happens.

It was supposed to be something fun. It was supposed to be one last experience they could all bond over before heading their separate ways:

The 2012 Belldale Music and Arts Festival, or as Puck had deemed it; _'The 2012 End of the World Festival'._

_"Party like it's 2012, baby!"_ Rachel remembered him yelling, as he took off his shirt, dropped his luggage and rolled down the hill at the entrance. He _rolled_. He flung himself off the top, shirtless, and tumbled down the hill, laughing like a mad man; laughing like he had thrown away all his troubles, all his responsibilities, along with that tattered shirt.

Rachel knew it was going to be quite an eventful week since.

Granted, when Rachel heard from Finn that they would be going, she refused, at first. She'd read about these things online. It was often packed with sweaty people who were too drunk or too high, or both, and she wanted nothing to do with it. After a long talk with her fathers, though, she realized that this was exactly the sort of things teenagers wanted to do. It was why Finn was excited about going, and why Puck was. It was why Santana did everything she could to convince her mother to go. It was why Quinn had said yes, without thinking twice about it.

So, Rachel, for once in her life, didn't think about it. She didn't talk herself out of it. She'd told Finn she was in.

She had played it safe for most of her life, so she gave in. Just the once.

Then _this_ happens.

Rachel held up her hand that was attached to Quinn's, via a brand new pair of shiny, silver handcuffs. Where Santana got them, she didn't have a clue. That was added to the extremely long list of questions Rachel would ask her when she found her.

The movement was slight, just enough to wake Quinn, but not startle her, Rachel made sure.

Quinn opened one eye, and upon seeing Rachel, she shut it, with a groan, as if the blonde had expected it all to be just a bad dream.

Rachel understood, because she had hoped it was, too.

"Quinn, come on… we need to shower…" Rachel said, rather unenthusiastically. Being handcuffed to someone wasn't exactly an 'fun time', and more so because she was handcuffed to _Quinn Fabray_; the only person on the planet who seemed to want nothing to do with her.

That was the one thing Rachel could never understand. Quinn _actively_ wanted nothing to do with her. She made sure of it. She made sure to not be at the same places as her at the same time as her. She purposely avoided her at all costs. Maybe at first, Rachel could see that, but they were supposed to be friends now.

Then again, Quinn actively didn't give a straight answer to that question, either.

Rachel sighed to herself. It didn't matter now, anyways.

It had been less than a day. _Less _than _one_ day. They had been attached to each other for just twelve hours, and it was enough time to turn back their relationship three years. Anything and everything Rachel had done to become Quinn's friend had been erased. Quinn hadn't spoken to her since Santana cuffed them together at the Manchester Orchestra concert...

.

**Day 01. 7:07 PM.**

"What have I ever done to you?" Rachel had said, voice shaking "You're supposed to be my friend."

_i felt the world begin_

_to peel of all my skin_

She didn't know why, but she had always become a bumbling mess in front of Quinn. She stuttered more than usual, her mannerisms were more animated; she was just so self-conscious, so nervous. Quinn always brought that out in her. No matter how close they had (seemingly) gotten, Rachel never stopped being nervous around her. She was always afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing. She wanted to impress Quinn. She wanted to be Quinn's friend. She had been working at it for years.

_and i felt the weight within_

She was going to cry. She already felt it coming. Her lips were pursed, tightly, the corners of her mouth, trembling. She was trying her hardest not to. She didn't want to look weak. Not again. She was trying to get her point across, and if she cried, it wouldn't.

_reveal the bigger mess_

But she couldn't stop herself. The tears flowed, and Quinn looked away, jaw clenched.

"I don't remember saying anything about us being friends." Quinn said, simply.

_that you can't fix_

"Alright, that's it!" Santana had yelled, over the crushing guitars, and swelling violins on stage. It was the breakdown of the song, and people jumped up and down around them, banging their heads and arms flailing. People pushed into them; it was chaos. There was so much movement, Rachel couldn't keep track of it all. Everyone sang loud, pouring their heart and soul into each word;

_i felt_

_i felt god_

_lead me into my home!_

Rachel had heard the faintest sound of a _click _between the words, and felt her arm being pulled behind her. She turned and got a good look at Santana before her face disappeared into the crowd.

She was laughing.

_don't stop don't ever go!_

_i swear you'll never know!_

_you'll never know!_

Rachel felt something dangling from her wrist. She looked down just when Quinn pulled her arm towards her; _handcuffs. _They were handcuffed. Together.

Rachel Berry was now handcuffed to Quinn Fabray, and the only person with the key was...

Santana.

"Santana!" Rachel turned around to where she saw her last. "Santana, this isn't funny! Santana!"

"Get the fuck back here!"

Rachel would have noted that this was the first time she had ever heard Quinn swear, if she wasn't practically being dragged through the crowd.

Quinn pushed people out of the way, which caused them to shove back. Combined with the adrenaline pumping music; the violins in sync with the guitars and the steady _dum, dum! dum, dum, dum!_ of the drums, they found themselves in a mosh-pit that _they_ created.

"Quinn, if- but- slow down!" Rachel tried yelling, but she couldn't even hear herself over the collective shouting of the chorus;

_oh god, you gotta shake it out!_

_shake it out!_

_you gotta break it down!_

_break it out!_

Quinn had ran out of the crowd. Andy's Hull's screeching vocals seeming farther and farther away with every rushed step. Rachel did her best to keep up, but even then her arm was basically being torn out of it's socket.

"Quinn! Stop!"

Quinn did so, abruptly. She didn't turn around to face her. Her shoulders slumped, and her head lowered.

"She's gone." Rachel had said, breathing hard. "She's gone…"

.

**Day 02. 8:40 AM. **

They attended two more concerts ('Arkist' and half of the 'White Rabbits' set, before Quinn dragged Rachel off to their tent without a word) and they couldn't find Santana. Anywhere. Rachel couldn't understand it. When she had explained why she and Quinn were now handcuffed together, and after everyone had stopped laughing, she asked where Santana had disappeared to. They all said they hadn't seen her, or Brittany, since the Manchester Orchestra concert.

_"No idea where she went, but this is just GOLD." _Kurt had said, tears welling up in his eyes from laughing so much.

Rachel had never harbored any ill will towards Santana before, but the girl was definitely pushing it now. What kind of sick and twisted joke was she pulling?

Quinn just turned on her side, facing her back towards Rachel. She put her hands under her chin, which pulled Rachel right along with the movement.

"I need to shower." Rachel said, holding herself up with her other hand.

Quinn didn't say anything.

"Seriously, we smell." Rachel said, pulling back again.

"In a few minutes." She mumbled.

"No. Right now." Rachel pulled, forcefully this time.

Quinn pulled back.

Which caused Rachel to pull again.

Quinn sat up, annoyed "What is up with you?"

"We need to shower."

"You can't give me just five more minutes? We were up all night because _someone_ kept tossing and turning."

"Well, _excuse_ me for not having slept handcuffed to a person before. You couldn't have been completely comfortable, either, so don't try and act otherwise." Rachel crossed her arms against her chest, which pulled Quinn forward.

"At least I was considerate about it." She pulled back. "You move when you're sleeping, too, did you know that? I slept two hours, at most, 'cause you kept squirming like a _little_ worm."

"That's ridiculous, Quinn. I do _not_ move when I'm sleeping, and even if I did, I doubt my movements can be likened to a worm, of all things." Rachel said, sternly. "And 'little'? Really? Was that adjective needed?"

"This isn't up for debate. I was awake. You were asleep. You were moving in your sleep, therefore, I _couldn't_ sleep. Also, you're tiny. You're gonna have to accept it someday. Okay? The end." Quinn turned, and lay back down.

"Quinn!" Rachel pulled on her arm. "I want to take a shower. I smell horrific. And so do you. We spent all day yesterday with sweaty people and dirt and mud, and we're gross."

"We smell fine. Now, shut up and let me sleep."

"I'll have you know Lana Del Rey is playing at noon, and if I miss her because you wanted to sleep in-"

Quinn sat up, and knelt, literally inches away from Rachel's face. "You are _the_ most annoying person I've ever met, and I _swear_ to everything I am going to _kill_ Santana for that key when I find her."

Rachel did her best to remain composed, and unthreatened. "Yes, well, when we do find her, I'll have quite a few things to say, so don't kill her immediately."

Quinn didn't say anything. Instead she just stared at Rachel with an expression Rachel just couldn't read.

"What?" Rachel asked. It was one thing to have Quinn Fabray's face about three inches from your own, but for her to just _stare_, when she was so close? No. She couldn't handle much of that. Quinn's eyes were the only remotely human thing about her, and Rachel had never got to see them up close before.

They were unsurprisingly beautiful, and shockingly... vulnerable.

Quinn surveyed Rachel's face, for a moment longer, before she sat back, looking towards the tent's exit. "Nothing." She pulled her knees up to her chest, and let her handcuffed arm rest on them so Rachel wouldn't have to stretch out her own.

"Are you done arguing with me?"

"Not in my lifetime, no." Quinn muttered against her forearm.

"Quinn, whether you like it or not, we're in Los Angeles, miles away from home, at a music festival, handcuffed to each other for, what seems like, the duration of our time here. If we continue to be at each other's throats, it will not be a very pleasant experience."

"Like it was pleasant to begin with."

"Well, maybe if you didn't whine every five minutes-"

"And maybe if you weren't annoying every five minutes-"

"You know what? _Fine._"

Quinn blinked, rapidly, seemingly caught off guard. She sat up, and looked at her. "Fine?"

"Yes, fine. I won't _annoy_ you any longer." Rachel said. "On the condition that you stop whining."

"I do not whine-"

"That's my offer. You can take it or leave it."

"You say it like I have a choice. We're _handcuffed_ to each other."

"You are currently whining. Shall I take that as a 'no'?"

"That's not whining, that's stating fact-"

"Whining. Final offer."

"Fine, whatever, yes. As long as you stop talking."

"Good." Rachel stood up. Quinn's arm followed, but not much else of her.

Rachel looked down at her. "_Quinn_."

"You literally _just_ said you'd stop being annoying."

"The showers at this place are probably disgusting, okay, and I need to take one before I suffocate to death in my own pile of dirt and toxic fumes-"

"Oh, wow, are you overly dramatic." Quinn stood up.

She gave Rachel a once over; slowly trailing her eyes down Rachel's body, and then quickly back up again. Rachel was about to ask, but Quinn spoke first; "So, how is this going to work?"

"How is what going to work?"

"We're handcuffed to each other." Quinn raised her arm to show her.

"I know this." Rachel lowered their arms. "Obviously."

"Okay, so how is this going to work?" She repeated.

"I d-don't follow."

"How are you going to take a shower, Rachel?" She said, as slowly as possible. "We are handcuffed to each other. How are you going to shower if we're handcuffed to each other? Do. You. Understand. Now?"

Rachel ignored Quinn's blatant mocking of her, because she realized Quinn was right. There was really no easy way to take a shower when you were attached to another human being.

"Well, there_ is_ a public shower..." Rachel began.

Quinn raised her eyebrow. "And...?"

"And..." Rachel said. "There _is_ a public shower." She repeated.

Quinn shook her head. "I am going to _kill_ Santana."

"With our clothes on, then. That way you can shower too." Rachel said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

"This is not a thing that's happening."

"It'll be like..." Rachel thought for a moment. "Like when you go to the beach and wash off sand."

Quinn used her free hand and brought it up to her face, slightly squeezing the bridge of her nose in complete and utter exasperation.

"It could be worse." Rachel said. "Speaking of which, what do we do when one of us needs to use the bathroom? Also, what if we both need to use the bathroom at the same time? Maybe we should schedule our bathroom breaks so they land on intervals. I can make a detailed chart-"

"I need to find a saw." Quinn said, walking away, out of the tent.

As expected, the only person sitting in their little campsite was Finn Hudson. He was eating a bowl of cereal, and once he saw the two girls, he gave a goofy smile.

"I don't think a saw can cut through this;" Rachel reached for the little chain. "It seems particularly sturdy." She pulled on it with her forefinger.

"I don't care. I'll chop off my arm if I have to." Quinn stopped in front of him. "Where's Kurt?"

"He went with Blaine to the electro house way on the other side of the field." Finn said, pointing behind him. "What's going on? You guys okay? Did you sleep okay, Rach?"

"I slept fine, thank you."

"And why are you still here?" Quinn asked.

"I was waiting for you guys to wake up. Rachel wanted to see Lana Del Rey today, and we're going together."

Quinn looked at Rachel, then. "Is this a date?"

"Originally, yes-"

"I need to find a hammer." Quinn said, walking away again. "I need a chainsaw or some kind of industrial tool. I will use a knife if I have to. I will use a _spoon_."

"See you later, Finn!" Rachel waved. "We're off to take a shower!"

Finn scrunched his face up in confusion. "Wait..." He said, standing up. "Together?"

"Yeah, like when you're at the beach and-"

Quinn pulled Rachel around the corner of another tent, out of Finn's field of vision.

He just stood there, face frozen in bewilderment.

* * *

**Day 02. 9:16 AM.**

Quinn was sitting, back against the marble of the shower wall, arms resting on her knees, eyes closed and facing up at the ceiling. Her hair and clothes were dripping wet. She had a towel hung around her neck, collecting the water that fell from her hair. She tapped, impatiently, on her knee, trying to match the beat with the music reverberating off the walls.

They could hear some band performing nearby with way too many synths playing at the same time, Quinn thought. She couldn't recognize any of the five songs they had played, so she wasn't worried about missing the show.

"Could you stand up? I'd like to use my other hand."

Quinn dragged herself up the wall, and let her arm dangle at her side, not opening her eyes once. Rachel tried to lift it, but couldn't.

"Quinn. A little help?"

Quinn opened her eyes then, if only to roll them. She held her arm up to where Rachel could reach the showerhead. Quinn let her direct her movements, keeping her arm up at a reasonable height, while turning away.

By the time they had reached the showers, there were only two other people there. It looked like they had just been, as Rachel had aptly put it; "vomited on by a rainbow". They were laughing and talking loudly, using the shower heads to attack each other, playfully. Quinn would have found it endearing in another situation. Handcuffed to Rachel, however, everything was overshadowed. She could only focus on finding Santana and getting her arm back, as well as the rest of her time on vacation here.

Quinn guessed the two other people in the showers had just attended the 'Bucket War' on the southside of the festival field. People were handed buckets of paint at the entrance, and they were unleashed into a slippery room, floors and walls painted with every color imaginable in every which direction. Quinn had put that down on the mental list she had compiled of things she wanted to do, but plans change, apparently.

Quinn thought, at first, that it wouldn't be that bad. She tried to figure out ways they could still enjoy themselves attached to each other, but she just couldn't. Even on the best of days, she and Rachel didn't get along completely. They had their moments, but that's all they were; moments. Little specks on a much larger picture, just dots, nothing more.

On the bigger picture, they just weren't friends. Quinn didn't know how to be a friend, or at least, she felt she didn't know how to be a friend Rachel deserved.

The painted people had washed themselves off, and were presumably out having more fun than Quinn would, she thought. They were alone in the showers, now, still the sound of the running water, and the synthesizers in the distance the only thing they heard. Up until Rachel would speak, however.

"You're acting really jumpy about this."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Quinn said, not facing her.

"It just seems like you're on edge for some reason. That's all."

"Well, I'm not." Quinn said, sharply. "I'd just like to get this over with so we can find Santana. I already know where I'm going to hide the body."

"You're on your own with that." Rachel pulled the showerhead (and Quinn's arm) above her head to rinse out her hair. "I will not be an accessory to murder. I can _not_ go to jail, Quinn. But I will defend you on the news when they ask me; 'oh no, Quinn seemed like a nice enough girl. I don't know where that came from. It's so unexpected, and we're all very devastated.'"

"And I bet you're gonna cry for added effect?"

"Yes. You know me well."

Quinn smiled at that, but caught herself, and quickly shook her head. "You done yet?" She looked back at Rachel.

Rachel nodded, reaching up to put the showerhead back up. Rachel wore a sleeveless white tee, and little red shorts; both of which were clinging to her skin, creating creases Quinn found herself tracing with her eyes, like the roads on a map.

Rachel caught her staring, which prompted Quinn to speak before the shorter girl did; "Don't you think 'white' was a bad color to choose when you were knowingly going to get your t-shirt wet?"

Rachel shrugged. "Towel?"

Quinn tugged on the towel around her neck, and handed it to her. Rachel quickly ruffled it against the top of her head, throwing her hair forward.

"It's not like I knew we were going to be handcuffed to each other- oh, gosh, I'm going to have to straighten out my hair now…"

"Are you serious?" Quinn asked. "We don't know anyone out here, no one cares what your hair looks like."

Rachel flipped her hair back. "I care what my hair looks like."

"Great." Quinn muttered. "I'm going to spend half of the day watching you fix your hair and doing your nails and putting on make-up and picking out your outfit. Yes, this was the fun I envisioned when Puck told me we were going to Belldale."

"Yes, Quinn, it must be hard for you to believe, but fact is that the majority of us can't just wake up and look like you do. Some of us actually have to work to look pretty."

Rachel was the one who walked away this time, dragging Quinn behind her. They had to squeeze through a group of guys who were covered and mud, and Quinn wondered again why they showered when they would probably be even more filthy than they were before they showered by the time the day was done. You didn't just go to Belldale and expect to stay clean, even if you didn't participate in any of the messy activities. The whole festival was about connection; human connection, intimacy, friendship, bonding. Belldale was a place where people went to clean their souls and dirty their bodies. Quinn had been looking forward to it.

But now...

"You don't have to work to- this is-" Quinn stammered. "Who are you trying to impress? You already have a boyfriend."

"It's not about impressing people."

"Then what is it for?"

Rachel spun around, stopping Quinn in her tracks. "For myself."

Quinn didn't look like she understood.

"Hey! There you guys are."

Quinn looked passed Rachel, and Rachel turned at the sound of the familiar voice.

Mercedes gave a little wave, and a smile as she walked over to them. She was wearing a green handkerchief wrapped around her head as a bandana, and her face was riddled with little iron-on tattoos of butterflies and flowers.

"Hello, Mercedes." Rachel said, evenly.

"Finn said you two headed for the showers this morning."

"Yes." Rachel nodded. "We did."

"And… how did that go?"

"Well, Quinn has still managed to refrain from killing me." Rachel said. "Yet." She added. "And I don't smell like a dog anymore, so I would say it went well."

Mercedes looked to Quinn.

"I have _great_ self-restraint." Quinn said.

"Girl, I know that." Mercedes said, chuckling. "Are you guys gonna see Lana Del Rey?"

"Yes." Rachel said, excitedly. "Finn and I… and Quinn are heading there right after I straighten out my hair."

"Tina's already in line with Mike. They're saving us spots."

"Wonderful. Meet you there?" Rachel said, walking past her.

"For sure." Mercedes nodded, going in the opposite direction. "See you guys! Don't kill each other! Love you!"

* * *

**Day 02. 9:53 AM.**

Rachel stared down at Quinn, and oh yes, Quinn definitely felt her eyes on her, but she tried not to open her own. She didn't want to hear whatever it was Rachel had to say. She just wanted her to finish getting ready so they could go on with their day. This whole 'being handcuffed to each other' business was bad, and Quinn would be damned if she didn't enjoy herself, even a little, while at Belldale.

She would never forgive herself for it.

Quinn sat beside Rachel, who had been straightening out her hair, until Quinn heard the _'hissing'_ of the straightener stop. Rachel was staring at her now. She knew, even though she had been resting her eyes since they got back to the tent. She was exhausted. She hadn't been lying when she said that she'd barely slept. Rachel was like a puppy or some other small, rambunctious thing when she slept.

Quinn remembered when her mother was dog-sitting one of the neighbor's pets while they went to Florida, or something. Judy had left Quinn in charge of the small dog, whenever she would go to one of their church's dinner parties. 'Batman', the tiny black pug, apparently could only sleep on a bed occupied by another person. And the dog had taken a liking to her, so whenever Quinn would tuck herself in at night, little Batman jumped up onto her bed and snuggled beside her. She would have found it cute, if it didn't constantly move while it slept, flailing and kicking about, waking Quinn up in the middle of the night.

Much like a certain Rachel Berry she now found out.

Quinn sighed. "What do you want?"

"How do I change clothes?"

Quinn opened her eyes. "What?"

"I can't change clothes if I'm handcuffed to you… can I?"

Quinn thought for a moment. "I'm... not sure."

"Let's try."

"You can't be serious."

"I want to change my shirt, Quinn."

"I am going to kill Santana. I am going to strangle her with my bare hands, and then set her on fire-"

"La-la-la-lala, I'm not going to be an accessory to murder." Rachel sat up. "Okay, let's do this."

Quinn shook her head. "No."

"_Quinn_."

"No, Rachel. I'm not going to let you be half naked in front of me. I already showered with you- I think that's enough of being inappropriately close for one day, don't you think?"

"You were practically half-naked with a bunch of other half-naked girls back when you were a cheerio." Rachel said, matter-of-factly. "How is it 'inappropriate' now?"

"That was different." Quinn muttered.

"Different how?" Rachel asked, but she doesn't wait for an answer. "Come on. It's just an experiment."

Quinn sighed. "Whatever. Fine. Alright. Go."

Rachel gripped the end of her shirt, and pulled it up with one arm, and over her head. As it slipped over her head, and onto her other arm, they encountered a small problem.

"Hm. I see." Rachel said.

"Great." Quinn said, annoyed.

"Take it off, then."

"How?"

"Put it on, and take it off."

"Like..." Quinn stared at the garment hanging from her arm. "Down?"

"Yes, put your legs through the shirt."

"Wait, why didn't you do this in the first place?"

"You're right." Rachel nodded. "Can you put it back on me? I'm at a disadvantage here."

"This is the worst." Quinn muttered, as she slipped the shirt back over Rachel's head. "Alright, try it."

"Up."

Quinn listened, and stood up along with Rachel.

"No, this isn't going to work."

"Why not?"

"Unless I can slip into your shirt with you, and you can pull it down over both our legs."

"... you're quite thin, Quinn."

"This is the absolutely _worst_."

"Come here, then."

"No, this is stupid; you can't change clothes. Face it."

"We can try, we haven't tried yet-"

"Yes, we did." Quinn sat back down. "We're done."

Rachel sighed, defeated. "This is so inconvenient." Rachel said, and tried to walk away, but was pulled back by Quinn staying stationary.

"Okay, let's make a new rule," Rachel said, sounding slightly annoyed. "Anytime one of us moves in a certain direction, or stands up, the other person has to do the same. Okay? Okay. Good. I'm glad we agree."

Quinn just looked up at her.

"Quinn, you have to stop making this difficult for the both of us. Can't we at least _try_ and have fun?"

Quinn stood up to face her. "This isn't 'fun'. This will never be 'fun'."

"Hot, hot ladies!" Puck charged through the tent. He was shirtless (again), with a painted red hand-print over his heart. He had two red lines painted under his eyes, and he was wearing a headband similar to Mercedes.

"Ooo, the Puckster likes what's going on here. Need some help?"

Rachel looked down at herself, as she was half-wearing a shirt.

"Shut it, Puck." Quinn said. "We can't take off our clothes."

"Is that a challenge?" He smirked.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Noah, is there ever a time where you're not acting like a caveman?"

"Don't think so." He answered. "Anyways, are you guys ready to see the very, _very_ sexy Lana Del Rey?" He flung his right arm around Rachel. "Followed by a little band called 'MGMT'," He flung his left arm around Quinn. "Then some 'Rihanna', topped off with some 'fun.'?"

He looked from girl to girl. Rachel gave him a small smile, while Quinn just looked off to the side.

"Wow," He let both girls go. "I can just _feel_ the excitement." He grabbed both of their handcuffed hands with his right hand, and pulled them toward the exit. "Come on, come on! You guys gotta get into the spirit of things! So what if you're handcuffed to the worst possible people you can be handcuffed to? We're still in L.A! And we're still seeing some kickass bands! You only live once, guys!"

Quinn stared at him. "Are you high?"

"I might have taken something this random guy gave me at the Asap Rocky concert this morning, but it feels just like taking some Vitamin D, so who cares? Life is great, music is loud, love is beautiful, girls are hot, and I'm surrounded by all those things! Viva la 2012, baby!" He pulled his sunglasses down to the bridge of his nose. "If this is the end of the world, I don't mind it one bit, am I right?"

Rachel looked at Quinn with a disarming smile, and Quinn couldn't help but smile a bit, too.

As they were dragged out of the tent by a singing, giddy Puck, both girls had the faintest thought that maybe, just maybe, everything would turn out alright.


	2. Kids

**a/n: **songs by order of appearance:

'radio' by lana del rey.  
'kids' by mgmt.  
"she" by josh beech and the johns (alchemy session)

* * *

**Chapter 2: Kids**

**Day 02. 1:34 PM.**

Everything did not turn out alright.

Halfway through the Lana Del Rey set, some guys got a little too pushy with Puck, and he completely lost it; arms swinging, hitting anyone within his immediate vicinity. Finn got pulled into the fight, and so did Sam, and Mike. Sooner than later, there was a full out brawl in the middle of the crowd while Lana Del Rey continued singing the chorus to _'Radio'_, seemingly having no clue as to people getting their faces punched in during her show. When Finn had finally managed to escape the fight, if only for a moment, Quinn was dragged along as Rachel scolded him to the moon and back. Finn had none of it, and pushed her aside, jumping right back into the scuffle. Security eventually caught wind of the situation, and the boys were escorted out, kicking and yelling.

Quinn looked at Rachel, knowing she was on the brink of tears, and when Rachel looked back at her- she caught a serious case of déjà vu of prom last year.

Those were very different circumstances, and Rachel suddenly realizes they've come full circle.

And _that's_ why she breaks down, right as Lana Del Rey finishes her last song, and waves goodbye to the crowd.

Quinn decides that maybe the middle of a full house of people where a fight just broke out isn't the most comfortable of places to have a cry, so she just grabs onto Rachel's hand and leads her out of the building.

It drizzling, slightly, so they make their way into someone's tent, because tents don't actually belong to people down here, and everyone's free to do whatever they want. It's the north field that holds all the high end celebrities who own entire plots of lands that no one can step on without their permission. So Quinn lets her sit down in someone else's chair, in someone else's tent and cry for a good ten minutes.

"Finn's a dick, sometimes." Quinn says, quietly, feeling like she _should_ say something, partly. Mostly, though, she hates silences.

She's sitting- or more like squatting in front of her, hand unknowingly resting on Rachel's knee. They were forced to touch each other more because of the handcuffs, and Quinn was becoming less and less aware of those times.

Rachel puts her hand on hers, and that's when she notices. But Quinn doesn't pull away, like she thought she would.

"No, I…" Rachel chokes in a sob. "I'm not- I'm not upset because of that- because of _him_."

"Oh." Quinn mumbles. "Then what's… wrong?"

"Is this how it was for you?"

"What do you mean?"

"When you had Finn, when you were where you thought you wanted to be in life? Did it feel this…" Rachel moves her free hand, frantically, as if physically searching for the words.

"Empty?"

Rachel just nods.

"Yeah. It did."

"Is that why you ran away? I mean- the pink hair, the skanks- all that? You were trying to find yourself?"

"I think so. But it didn't help." Quinn looks up at her. "Why? You planning on dying your hair blue? Tina has some dye, I think."

Rachel smiles, despite herself. "Do you think I should?"

"Do you think it'll help?"

Rachel takes in a shaky breath. "I really don't know, but I've never allowed myself to rebel, you know? Never allowed myself to be a child, or a teenager; I've been an adult for as long as I can remember, and now that I'm _actually_ going to be an adult, I… well, the idea doesn't sound all that appealing, to be honest. I don't want to."

"Like I said, Tina still has some dye, if you're interested." Quinn says. "Sometimes, things are about impulses; life is about impulses. It's those rushes, those sudden feelings that turn everything on it's head. You might want to dye your hair tonight, and you might hate it in the morning, and that's fine. It's fine because you can wash it out when, and if you want to. And if you want to keep it, then you've found something you like. You don't know certain things until they happen, you know?"

"Whoa, who're you?" A girl enters the tent, saying. She's holding a Yorkshire terrier like a baby in her arms, her face covered in paint, and Quinn distinctly remembers that the sign said 'no pets' at the entrance of the festival.

"Sorry." Quinn says, helping Rachel up. "We needed a place to-"

"Whoa, handcuffs?" She says. "Kinky." She adds with a smirk.

"We'll be going." Rachel says, sniffling and tugging on Quinn's arm.

Quinn lets her drag her out of the tent by handcuffed arm, and into the rain, before speaking. "What was that?"

Rachel places her handcuffed hand above her head, in an attempt to shield them from the rain, prompting Quinn to do the same. "What was what?"

"_That_?" Quinn motions back to the tent. "We can't go around letting people think that we have _weird_ sex in tents with handcuffs!"

"It could be worse."

"Why do you keep saying that? _How_ could it possibly be worse?!"

"There you guys are!" Tina yells over the rain, and the muffled sound of MGMT's synth solo in their song, _'Kids'_. "We've been looking for you. It's pouring!"

"And you know what that means!" Puck says, pushing past her. He dashes by them and into the mud field, doing a backflip into the mud. Mike follows, yelling _'woohoo_', as he front flips over Puck.

Rachel watches as the rest of the gang approaches them, and Quinn knows, watching her, that she's just searching for Finn.

He isn't there.

"Where's Finn?" Rachel asks.

Kurt shrugs. "He said he needed to 'clear his head'. As if it isn't clear enough already."

Blaine gives him a look of disapproval, which causes Kurt to playfully tap him on his nose. "Who's a little cutie when they get all condescending? You are!"

Rachel frowns.

"MUD FIGHT!" Puck yells, and immediately flings a fistful of mud to the back of Mercedes' head.

"OH HELL TO THE NO!" She scoops up two full hands of mud, pushes him over, and shoves it in his face. "THAT WAS MY FINEST WEAVE!"

Puck laughs, apparently swallowing mud in the process, but it didn't look like he minds much.

It's full out raining, now, but the drops aren't harsh, just plenty. They're all beyond soaking, and yet none of them seemed to care.

"We should find Finn…" Rachel says, quietly.

"Forget Finn." Quinn says, with a small smile, pulling Rachel toward the mud field. "Didn't you hear Puck? Mud fight!"

She pulls her into the mud, and everything becomes a flash of images. She can feel that's she's rolling, but she can't see much, she can only feel it. She feels the mud getting stuck to almost every inch or her skin, she can feel Quinn struggling against her, but she can't see any of it. It's a weird feeling; abruptly being blind, and letting only touch guide you, but for the moment it fits, and Rachel's already laughing.

Somehow, someway, Rachel manages to stop, and sit up. She wipes as much mud off her face (only smearing it in the process) in an attempt to see. Quinn's in front of her flinging mud at Tina, while Tina holds up her hands to guard her face. Everything is in slow motion. She hears Kurt yelling _'not in my hair! For the love of God, not in the hair!'_ to her right, she hears Blaine's infectious laughter. She turns and sees Mercedes, Sam and Mike making mud angels to her left. Puck keeps standing up, and jumping back into the mud. Everyone is laughing. Everyone is covered in mud. Everyone looks completely and utterly ridiculous.

No one seems to have a care in the world.

"CONTROL YOURSELF! TAKE ONLY WHAT YOU NEEEEED FROM IT!" Puck yells along to the song, jumping up and down and splashing about.

"A FAMILY OF TREEES WANTED TO BE HAUNTED!" Sam practically comes from nowhere, and tackles Puck back into the mud. They're laughing and they look like complete idiots.

Rachel feels dirty, slimy hands grip her own, and everything goes back to normal speed.

"You okay?" Quinn asks, smiling wider than Rachel could ever remember.

Rachel nods, simultaneously, scooping up mud with her free hand, and flattening it against Quinn's face in one swift movement.

At first, Quinn looks shocked, and Rachel begins scolding herself in her mind as to why she thought that would be a good idea- but all thoughts soon disappear as Quinn pins her down against the mud. Again, Rachel is laughing, and this time she can see, clear as day, that Quinn is too.

* * *

**Day 02. 6:02 PM.**

Most of them are asleep; mid-day nap, as everyone is exhausted from either the real fight, or the mud fight, or both. They're still sticky, only managing to clean off most of the dirt and grime in the showers, but some still stuck between fingernails and in ears and hair.

Kurt was awake, and so was Rachel. They had been sitting in silence, mostly, out of consideration for those sleeping. Blaine was lying on Kurt's lap, while Kurt did his best to pick the remaining bits of mud out of his hair.

Quinn was sleeping, slumped beside Rachel, and Rachel almost jumped out of her skin when Quinn suddenly slid and laid her head on Rachel's shoulder. Her hair was still wet from their speedy shower, but Rachel didn't mind that much. In fact, she didn't mind at all.

Rachel looked down at her hand, fingers slightly brushing Quinn's. She links her forefinger with Quinn's, and Quinn just nudges closer to her, body turning to completely face her.

Rachel smiles.

Kurt must have seen, because when she looks back up at him, he just shoots her a knowing smile.

She looks at him, expression reading _'what?'_

"It seems you two are getting along quite well." He answers, whispering.

"It's gotten easier." Rachel whispers back.

"I thought she would have killed you by now."

"You and me both."

"You know, I've always gotten the feeling Quinn has liked you a _little_ more than she lets on."

"Well, pardon me if I don't believe in your 'feelings'. I've witnessed firsthand how much Quinn 'lets on' that she 'likes' me, and I'll have you know, it's not by very much."

"Hm. Maybe we're not watching the same Quinn, then."

"What do you mean?"

"It's just that, the Quinn I see is the one that gives you the most sincere smiles I've ever seen the girl give, the one that shows the most emotion around you, the Quinn that listens to every piece of advice you give her, who waits on baited breath on your every word-"

Rachel sucks her teeth. "You're definitely imagining things."

"Maybe I am. Or maybe you're the one imagining things. Or maybe you're not imagining enough."

"You've lost me."

"I thought so." Kurt smiles. "I want you to promise me something, Rachel."

"What?"

"Let it happen."

"Kurt," Rachel says, an extremely serious expression on her face. "Did you take any illicit substances while you were at that rave earlier today?"

He chuckles a bit. "No. Still sober as can be, but not blind. Not like you, anyway."

"I honestly have no clue what you're saying."

"Just promise me you'll let it happen. You always want to be in control- you don't like when things don't go as planned, but sometimes the best things in life are unplanned. Let it happen. You have to let things happen to you, sometimes, instead of having it all under wraps, you know? If there's one thing I want you to do on this trip is let go. Just let go. Let go and let it happen." He smiles to himself. "After all, that's what this trip is all about, right? Letting ourselves go before the weight of the world is on our shoulders. This is our last chance to make mistakes, Rachel. You're getting married soon. We'll be in college in different states; it's our last chance to screw up. Just let yourself make mistakes; let it happen."

"But what is 'it'?"

"'It' can be a lot of things, or it can be one thing. It can be something or it can be nothing. Just let 'it' happen."

"Well, thank you for that, Mad Hatter, I'll be sure to pass the message along to the Cheshire cat."

He laughs, again. "The Mad Hatter was always my favorite."

"Josh Beech and the fucking Johns!" Puck runs into the tent, yelling.

Quinn shoots up, looking around frantically. Rachel immediately misses the contact.

"Josh!" Puck claps his hands. "Beech!" He claps them again. "and" he claps it in Kurt's face, causing Blaine to wake up, startled. "the" he pounds his chest. "Johns!"

"What the hell are you going on about?" Kurt asks.

"Josh Beech and the Johns! Right outside! Impromptu performance!"

Sam scrambles to his feet, throwing the tattered blanket off of him. He runs up to Puck and pushes him, hard. "Josh Beech and the Johns?"

"Josh Beech and the Johns!" Puck pushes him back.

"I don't understand what's happening. What is happening?" Blaine asks. "Why are they pushing each other?"

"Let's go! Get off your sweet asses! Josh Beech and the Johns!" Sam says, excitedly, sprinting out of the tent.

"Who are 'Josh Beech and the Johns'?" Quinn asks, rubbing her eyes.

"Wait a second…" Kurt says. "Josh Beech is that really hot English model! He sings? _Oh God yes_."

Blaine frowns.

"Oh, stop, Blaine, you'll say the same thing once you see him." Kurt says, helping him up.

"He better be really hot." Blaine says, still pouting.

"You'll _love_ him." Kurt says, walking out.

"I guess we should go, huh?" Rachel says, standing up.

Quinn just nods, and gets up, too.

They exit the tent to find a little makeshift stage, literally, a few feet away from their campsite. It was slightly elevated from the ground, and wasn't nearly as large as any of the stages they had seen so far. There was already a crowd gathered, surrounding the band, all swaying side to side, some lighters and cellphones in the air. Just in time for night, Rachel thought.

They squeeze their way through, trying to get as close to the stage as possible. They stop beside Puck and Sam who are yelling along to the song, along with most of crowd;

_don't look back  
never look back  
all you can do is_

Puck nudges Rachel, urging her to sing along. She just shakes her head, because she doesn't know the words.

_don't look back  
never look back  
all you can do is  
move on_

'_cause life goes on_

"Come on, everybody!" The singer yells, before continuing. He's jumping up and down, along to the drums, and his drummers are going absolutely insane. The crowd erupts the same way.

_don't look back!  
never look back!  
all you can do is  
move on!_

People get up on the stage, clapped their hands, stomped along; the stage shakes with the sheer energy of the moment. And the way Quinn was pulling Rachel forward and through the front of the crowd, told her that she wanted to be one of those people.

_don't look back!  
never look back!  
all you can do is  
don't look back  
never look back  
all you can do is  
move on!_

Everyone got louder, and louder. Quinn helped Rachel up, and she only got a glimpse of the crowd before she was being spun around. Quinn was jumping up and down, and mouthing '_come on_, _come on_!' or maybe she was saying it. Rachel couldn't tell because of all the singing and the drums and the guitars and the stomping. Quinn's hair was absolutely wild, and Rachel didn't know the words to the song but jumped right along with Quinn, and sang anyway;

_don't look back!  
never look back!  
all you can do is_

_don't look back  
never look back  
all you can do is  
_

Finn watched from the crowd. He was the only thing motionless in a sea of people, bobbing and jumping. He just wanted Rachel to turn around, if only for a moment. Just to see him, and for him to see her. He wanted her to look back.

_move on!_

She never looked back.


End file.
